


A Beast of A Machine

by RoseSomething



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Teencast, dick jokes between sjin and rythian, thats it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 00:10:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3188462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseSomething/pseuds/RoseSomething
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After finding a beat up chevvy in Teep's garage, Rythian makes it his weekend project to repair the car and takes it for a test drive with Zoeya hanging out the passengers side. Originally wrote as a prompt for a person on tumblr but I decided I may as well upload it here as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Beast of A Machine

She was a beast. A 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS, with a custom matt black paint job and go faster purple stripes up the bonnet of the car. She became Rythian’s weekend project when he found her in Teep’s garage, he simply brushed it, gesturing to Rythian that the car wouldn’t run and had been there when he moved into the house. After confirming the car didn’t belong to anyone anymore, he set to work rebuilding her and making her his own.

 Once the clutch was replaced, oil changed, leather interior restitched and customized with purple streaks and her ‘iconic logo’ (courtesy of his good friend Zoeya), and the linger smell of cannabis was aired out, he turned to the paint job, he gave her her title. It took many weeks sat in the Crooked Caber, sipping black tar like pints of Squid Ink (“Only in name!” Ravs, the bartender, promised) to come up with a suitable name. 

“Okay so, what about RiTZ?” Zoeya asked, sipping her lemonade and twirling a green strand of hair around her fingers 

Rythian wrinkled his nose at her, “Why RitZ?”

 “Rythian and Zoeya including Teep! RitZ!” she repeated, thrusting her arms forward and acting out jazz hands, making the sounds of fireworks with her mouth as her arms and hands shook in Rythian’s face.

 He stared back, stone faced as he simply replied, “We’re not calling her that.”

 Zoeya poked her tongue out at him and slumped back into her chair.

 "How about…”

 And it was settled, stenciled onto the back car doors, in simple yet elegant silver cursive, wrote ‘Blackrock’. Rythian was surprised the idea never came to him sooner. The name ‘Blackrock’ played a key role in his life, being the location name of his own homebrew Dungeons and Dragons setting. He sat back from his car, arms folded across his chest, a small smile blooming across his face under his knit scarf (gift courtesy of Zoeya, given his distaste for the small amount of acne that scarred and riddled his chin. It was always something he was bullied for, hiding it made things much easier. Plus it make him look, in his opinion, cool and mysterious).

 Zoeya entered the garage, their usual Starbuck’s take out in one hand and her small rucksack in the other. “Hey good lookins’, what’s cookins’?”

 Rythian turned to her, ripping down his scarf and flashed her his trademark million dollar smile.

 “Get in, we’re going shopping!”

 (Of course, the original quote includes a rude word and Rythian wouldn't dare refer to her as such. She rarely swore as it is and, as far as Rythian could assume, wasn’t keen on him doing so ever.) 

Zoeya sat in the passenger side, rummaging through her bag as she sipped her soy, strawberries and cream frappuccino. Rythian glanced over at her, pressing on the breaks as they reached a stop sign.

 “What are you doing?” he asked, glancing over at Zoeya.

 “Just a second...Almost...Got it!” she cried triumphantly, pulling out a cassette tape mix tape (with ‘Bassy Stuff for Ryth’ in her handwriting scribbled onto the side) and shoving it into the cassette player in the car, filling the car with wondrous bass with 90s video game-eque sounds. While he reached over to high five her for, frankly, excellent music, his train of thought was interrupted by a voice he just could not stand hearing.

 “Well well well, look what we have here Sipsy, looks like a couple of jokers all wrapped up in an outdated package!”

Rythian gave a short snort through his nose and leaned out the window, glaring over at Sjin and Sips, sat comfortably in some gas guzzling machine, caked in dirt and oil patches. Zoeya reached over and squeezed Rythian’s hand over the clutch, staring into his eyes and pleading quietly to not make a scene or start a fight. She was more than aware of his...qualms with Sjin, given a few weeks ago Sjin personally destroyed all of his Dungeons and Dragons fiction as well as his world maps and plans. No one else really saw it as a big deal but Rythian was still fuming and still seeking revenge.

 “If it isn’t you two spandex wearing lover boys.”

“I’d watch your tone there mother trucker, you wouldn’t want me to get out and teach you some manners.”

 “Ha that’s rich! How can you teach something you don’t know!”

 Zoeya groaned softly, relinquishing her grip on Rythian’s hand and going back to her frappucino. They were being actual 5 year olds.

 “How about,” Sjin finally proposed, “we let our machines do the talking, given that mine is most definitely,” he began, leaning out the window to eye up Blackrock, “bigger than yours.”

 Rythian threw his head back and laughed comically, pressing down on the accelerator a few times to rev the engine. “Size is great and all that, but it’s all about the power and what you can do with it.” He offered Zoeya a cheeky smile who choked on her drink and fell into a coughing fit. Rythian cleared his throat and turned back to Sjin, “Whatcha say? How about a little race?”

 Sjin broke into a massive grin, “You’re on.”

 The sat side by side in their respective vehicles, revving up the engines and jutting forward and back every few seconds. Zoeya, deciding she may as well get involved at this point, began a countdown timer on her phone. Once the number hits zero and the alarm rang, both boys (men...sure) would race to the end of the street, first one past the Crooked Caber wins.

 As the alarm chimed, Zoeya clung onto Rythian’s arm as he threw down the handbrake and speed off. Sjin pulled ahead, given his accelerator was much more powerful than his, but it wasn’t long before Blackrock’s engine roared a primal roar and spode ahead, leaving Sjin in a trail of dust as they sped past the Crooked Caber and swerved into the parking lot by the clearing to the forest. Rythian let out a small laugh, reaching up to his arm to take Zoeya’s, now clamped down hand, into his. Her skin was white, her red hair blown back away from her face in all sorts of wonderful swirls from the force of the wind that blasted through the windows as they darted down the street at breakneck speed. She eyed him slowly, at a lost for words as he ran his thumb over her hand.

 “Thank you,” he breathed, raising her hand to his lips, lightly brushing his rough lips against her knuckles.

 She sighed, applying a fake pouting but not daring to rip her hand away, “Not like I had much choice!” she yelled, exasperated by his constant desire to one up and ‘out man’ Sjin.

 He grinned against her hand, “Would it help if I say I’m sorry?”


End file.
